


Confined Space

by Killaway



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Bisexual Jacob, Boys In Love, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Emma isn't as childish in this version, Emma loves Abe not Jacob, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Enoch, Historical Accuracy, Historical Homophobia, Horace has dreams, I switched Fiona and Enoch's ethnicity, I'm up for the challenge though, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Millard knows things, Olive and Bronwyn are a thing because they're so cute together, Olive is adorable, Peregrine is such a mother, Rewrite, She's not great either though, This is going to be longer that I first thought because there are 5 books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-28 11:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killaway/pseuds/Killaway
Summary: (The rewritten version)When the world of peculiar children turns dangerous, the home they live in goes into lockdown. Forcing the tense children into interacting with each other. Love blossoms, fighting ensues, and secrets get exposed. All while being chased down by cannibalistic monsters.





	1. Untold Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I finally got to the rewriting of this story! And my motivation is high. I'm so excited to share and continue this for as long as there are books. I hope you all enjoy this new and updated version!

For perhaps the first time in months, as Jacob Portman lay in the summer sun, back behind a house of peculiar children, their small figures playing like any child would around him, his sleep wasn’t filled with nightmares that would wake him in cold sweets and tears, but instead a calm dream. Dreams of calm green waters, candy blue skies, and the sweet smell of burning wood. Lights like fireworks danced around the edges of his sight, as he felt himself smile. A smile that he often neglected himself nowadays. 

But of course, even dreams, like nightmares always ended with waking. And Jacob found himself being woken to the soft shoving of something small against his foot. Jacob was on his way to find Emma after talking with the Bird, yet, he must have dozed off in the warm sun. Opening his eyes, which for once in the last few months didn’t feel heavy or unrested, Jacob’s eyes found a tiny clay figure pressing itself into his ankle. After a moment of examining he realized it was trying to hide in his shoe, but only managed to tangle its tiny body in the laces. Jacob sat up, reaching out to help the poor thing, untying his shoe and untangling it from its prison. It was so small that Jacob could pick the thing up with two fingers and he placed it on his palm to take a closer look. It was built with a human-like body but had no face, only a smeared fingerprint. 

“Oy, bring him here!” An Irish tanged voice called from across the lawn, the boy sat against a tree stump with a small army of the clay creatures moving about him. Taking the last few moments of decision to wake up, Jacob got to his feet and walked over. His gaze flickered from one clay man to another, their movements were clunky and uncoordinated, like watching a baby trying to walk. Jacob leaned down and placed the small creature in his hand down with the others, before sitting down himself, careful to not squish any of the soldiers. 

“They’re cute,” Jacob spoke, holding out a finger for one of the clay men to play with. The boy shrugged, his shoulders looking too tight for his childish body. Dark circles rimed even darker eyes, while equally black curly hair fell in his face. If Jacob’s mother had seen him, she would have complained about getting a haircut. He had on clay stained overalls atop a black sweater and black pants. Actually, the only thing that wasn’t black about him was his pale skin, which looked like it had never seen the sun. 

“I’m Enoch,” he said, ignoring the compliment.

“I remember, we meet at dinner, yesterday.” Enoch gave a hum in reply.

“‘M sorry if they bothered you, they like wandering.” Jacob watched him corral the men back into the area in between them, so none ran off. 

“What exactly are they?” Out of all the peculiars, Enoch was the only one Jacob hadn’t seen his ability yet. 

“Homunculi.” Enoch gave a quick answer, keeping his gaze off of Jacob, more interested in his creatures. 

Jacob’s face scrunched in confusion. “What are homunculi?” 

Enoch only pointed to his creations, as they crawled over each other. 

_ Helpful. _

A silence waved over them, as the clay soldiers began rapidly moving. Jacob had to look closer just to see what exactly they were doing. Fighting. The clay men were hitting and kicking and tearing at each other. 

“Whoa!” Jacob winced back when one of the clay men tore off another’s arm. “Wha-what are they doing?”

“Fighting.” Enoch’s face was almost blank, however, a devilish, almost sadistic, smirk. It was an interesting mix of dead-like eyes, yet too emotion-filled grinning. Scooping up a fleeing clay man, Enoch gave it a scowl. “No deserters.” The small creation was quickly smushed as Enoch shut the man in his hand. When it opened again, only a small wad of what was once a walking and living thing, but this wad wasn’t moving at all. 

“Bit brutal dont’ca think?” Jacob frowned, watching as Enoch began to dig into the clay, his finger must have wrapped around the thing he was looking for since he quickly pulled out what looked to be a tiny, sticky, red, ball. He held the ball up.

“It’s a mouse heart. This is what I do.” Enoch placed the heart down, then wiped his hands on his overalls, staining it even further. “I give things life. Without me, they wouldn’t be alive, to begin with. You shouldn’t pity them.”

“I don’t- I…” Jacob couldn’t find his words. 

_ Did he pity the things? _

_ Perhaps he did. _

“Look, Jacob,” Enoch started, as he began to collect up his clay creations, “there’s a lot of things you don’t understand about us.”

“Does it matter?” Jacob asked quickly, interrupting Enoch, who gave a sharp look. He held his men against his chest, before standing. He was short, shorter than Jacob at least, standing tall at five-foot-four. Leaning over Jacob, he answered. 

“It does if you want to live with us.” His tone wasn’t one to argue against, enough so that Jacob shied away from retorting. “Has Emma told you about the Raids? Or the Hunts? Any of that?” Jacob shook his head ‘no’.

_ What wasn’t he being told?  _

_ How many dark secrets were being withheld from him? _

Enoch scoffed, seemingly more irritated at the others than Jacob himself. “Of course  _ she _ wouldn’t.” He muttered it out, with a sigh. “There’s a lot of things about us  _ she  _ wouldn’t tell you.”

“And what about you?” Enoch froze at the question, clearly not expecting it. 

“It’d be better to show you,” He trailed off, before taking a few steps toward the house. When he saw that Jacob wasn’t following, he sighed, walking back in order to heave Jacob onto his feet, then dragging him by his arm with him. 

Everyone inside the house ignored Enoch as they passed by, although there were a few odd looks when they noticed that Jacob was following behind. When they thought that the boys were out of earshot, Jacob heard whispering. But, Jacob didn’t care, he kept on, trying to block out whatever words they spoke. 

_ Did they always treat Enoch like this? _

They made their way up the stairs and to the end of the hall. Enoch took a quick glance around to make sure no one else had followed behind, and once he was satisfied, he leaned on his toes in order to scrape his hand on the door’s frame. When he came back down, in his hand was a key. And before Jacob could question  _ why,  _ Enoch slipped the key into the door and unlocked the room. He pushed Jacob inside before sliding in himself. 

Instantly, the first thing that hit Jacob was the smell. It resembled that sickeningly sweet scent of rotting caramel. And the source was the room’s bed. The room looked like any other bedroom in the house, with a dresser and personal items thrown about. But, lying on the bed was a young man, around the same age as Jacob, maybe a year or two older. His skin gray, with closed eyes, and a slightly opened mouth. It was peaceful, although sickly-looking. And Jacob recognized him from one of Peregrine’s photo albums. 

_ Victor. _

“Is he-?” Jacob couldn’t finish his sentence. But, he didn’t have to.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

_ How long has this boy been dead? How long has this family kept him here, refusing to let him go? Weeks? Months? Years? It could be well over forty years for as much as Jacob knew? _

_ And what did Jacob know?  _

_ Honestly, not much. Enoch has been the only one honest with him.  _

“The Bird don’t like us talking about Victor. ’S why she’s always wearing black.” Enoch took a step closer to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Bronwyn,” Jacob thought back to the picture of the two siblings, the strong girl, and her older brother, “she has me bring him back sometimes.”

“Back?” Jacob frowned, glancing away from Victor to watch Enoch’s expression. It had fallen, dark, yet sad. Did Victor mean a lot to Enoch too?

“Hearts, Jake, hearts. Human ones at that.” He sighed, running a small hand through his hair. “Doesn’t last long though, and he’s always eager to return, probably best too.” 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Jacob scoffed, crossing his arms. He leaned over Enoch, not that it did much since Enoch not once seemed intimidated, actually more amused than anything. “Why show me this? Isn’t it cruel to keep him like this? Tell me, how’d he die?”

Enoch smirked, “Can’t say, ‘ts forbidden.”

“Then why the hell did you bring me here?”

“Ouch, that stings, mate.” He faked a cringe, but became serious afterward, refusing to break eye contact. “Think about it a minute. Who else would tell ya this? The Bird?  _ Emma _ ?” He shook his head. “If you’re gonna stay, then you need the facts. To see us as we are entirely.”

“Yeah? And what are the facts?” Enoch stayed silent, refusing to talk due to the rules. 

_ Maybe it isn’t for him to say. _

_ But Jacob needed to know. _

“Fine, I’ll just ask Miss. Peregrine.”

“Uh-huh. No.” Enoch stepped in front of the door, stopping Jacob from leaving. “You let her know we were in here, she’d blow a fuse.”

“Then tell me!” Jacob yelled in frustration. This made Enoch panic, he was quiet as he pressed his ear against the door, and Jacob could hear it too. The soft sound of clanking as Peregrine shambled up the stairs. 

"Maith thú asshole.” Enoch opened the door and grabbed Jacob by his collar, dragging him out. As fast as he could, Enoch relocked the door, then tossed the key on the door-frame, before pulling Jacob into the next closest room. He shut the door behind them, quietly, pressing against the wall, he listened. Silently, they listened as Peregrine reached the landing. She slowly, with her normal gaut walked down the hall, then creaked open a door. Once it had closed the two boys leaned back in relief at not getting caught.

“She went into her room.” Enoch breathed, chuckling.

But Jacob was becoming impatient. “So, the Raids.” At the question, Enoch winced, clearly regretting saying anything at all. But, he motioned Jacob away from the door. He sat down on the floor, and waited for Jacob to do the same before speaking. Enoch pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin, he spoke.

“Its a  _ game. _ Emma came up with it, maybe sixty years back, probably more, I don’t know I stopped counting.” 

_ He’s staling. _

But Jacob didn’t say anything, just listened.

“Actually I think she came up with it after Abe left.” He had paused at the realization. Sighing, he continued. “It’s exactly as the name says. Raiding the village.”

“So you actually  _ raid  _ the village?”

“Yeah. Smash it, burn it. Whatever they want to do. The only rule is no killing. Give ‘em a real big scare. After the turn over everything returns itself the way it was.  _ ‘ts fun. _ ” Enoch’s face didn’t match his words. 

“You don’t join?”

“Nah, well, I did  _ once _ . Long-time ago. Haven’t since. Hurting them villagers ain’t exactly my thing.”

“Does Emma play still?”

“It’s her game, ‘course she does.”

This threw Jacob off. Wasn’t that a little dark, evil even? Although, the more he thought about how easy it seemed for Emma to trick and set ablaze the bar when they had first met. 

_ Maybe she wasn’t as kind and innocent as she looks. _

It was at this moment that Jacob realized how young Enoch looked. His face still that of a child, but his eyes said otherwise. They gleamed with an age that was impossible for Jacob to even think about. 

“But if you think that’s wicked, wait till you meet  _ them. _ ”

“Who’s  _ them _ ?”

Enoch only smirked, getting up from where he sat. His walk to the door was slow, but he did pause before he left. Glancing back at Jacob, Enoch pointed to an area of the room. Following his finger, Jacob saw a lone bed in the back of the room, and somehow he  _ knew  _ it was his grandfather’s. Jacob’s gaze snapped back as Enoch spoke, “Can’t say anything, ‘ts forbidden.” Then he left, leaving Jacob by himself, alone with Abe’s old things to explore. 

_ What a strange boy. _


	2. Unforgoten Broken Promises

Alone, with nothing but his own thoughts, that and an old briefcase full of his grandfather’s personal belongings. Items that he owned when he lived here, items that although were left behind gave Jacob a direct connection to the man he looked up to. Hesitantly, Jacob neared the bed. It was a small twin sized, with nothing more than an end table to accompany it. Nor was it the only one in the room, two other unused bed’s were tucked into corners. Once they must have belonged to children packed in the house, hiding from nightmares of all kinds. Now? Now the room was empty, yet preserved, as if they had only left this morning, rather that decades ago. 

Reaching under the bed, Jacob grasped the handle of the leather case. It was heavier than he had expected, like it was shoved full of books and papers. Which was exactly what was inside. The latch popped up easily, as it wasn’t ever relocked after he left. The lid burst open in a flurry of papers, each one filled with scratchy, yet delicate handwriting. Underneath the mess of paper, was a handful of notebooks. Each one was different, a different size and color. Some were leather, and others had been bound with paper, worn with use. Either way, Jacob steeled his resolve and picked one. 

It opened easily, the spine threatening to fall off. A few papers slid out, as well as some paperclipped photographs. Each one was of Emma. Her bright red hair dark against the bright sun, as she smiles sitting on the beach front. Another of her sitting in a clearing, the sun filtering through the trees, a picnic blanket underneath her, her face forever captured in a laugh. There was no denying that she is beautiful. They reminded him of the ones he had stored in his own phone.

Setting the pictures aside, he grabbed a lone note that had fallen into his lap. It was a back and forth between Emma and Abe, with a small hurried warning against Millard in its corner, telling him off for taking things that weren’t his. Jacob chuckled, skimming over the little lovey words, as it was passed around throughout the house. 

_ They really did love each other. _

No wonder Emma reacted the way she did when she had heard that Abe was killed. It was a melancholy happiness thinking about Abe. The happy memories that Jacob did have of his grandfather, which was admittedly all of them, up until his death, brought comfort to him. But Emma?

_What did she have?_ _What does she think when she sees him? The product of Abe loving another woman._

He shuddered at the thought. 

“There you are!” A voice broke him from his thoughts. “I’ve been looking all over the house for you! Then Enoch passes by and tells me you’ve been to see-” She cuts herself off once she standing right behind Jacob. He doesn’t have to look to know she’s frowning. “Those aren't yours.”

“Emma, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” She sighed out, her breathing shaky. And a heat quickly took over the room. Standing, Jacob saw that her hands were lit with a cool indigo blue flame. She stood still, staring off without really looking at anything. After a few moments, she shook her hands, extinguishing the flames, as he kneeled down over the case. “You could have asked me.” Whispering Emma lifted a few papers, inspecting them, before neatly placing them back inside the briefcase. 

“I wasn’t thinking, really I-”

“Clearly.” Emma ran her hand over the pages, a mix of longing and anger in her eyes. “So. What is it that you want to know?” She hummed, rocking on her heels, voice laced with just the slightest hint of danger, and Jacob knew that this was a touchy subject. He knew that anything could set her off. 

“What- what happened?”

“Simple. He left, promising to come back, that he loved me, that we’d always be together. Broken promises.”

“But, he had to go, didn’t he?”

“ _ Had to? _ ” Her voice broke, and this time bright red flames licked at her skin, her hands clenched. “Sure, lets suppose he  _ had to. _ His stupid sense of duty forced him off into an unwinable war.  _ Duty. _ ” She laughed sourly. “Always meant more to him than I did, I suppose. And whenever I asked him to come back, well, he’d give me some excuse. ‘I can’t because of this, love Abe’. Damn good it did me anyways, asking. He never did listen, not me, not to the Bird, not even to Enoch, his best friend.” Her whole body shook with anger as she explained. “So, I waited. And waited. Then waited some more. Then he sends me this." Picking up a photo, which nearly gets completely destroyed, since she had just barely cut off her flames before touching it, she shoves it in Jacob's chest. 

Taking the photograph, he inspects it, and instantly wished he hadn't. It's one he recognizes from his childhood. A simple photo of his grandfather holding his aunt when she was about a year or so old. Although, the copy Jacob remembers didn't have the scratchy handwriting on its back. 

_ 'I'm sorry, I won't be coming home.' _

"He had gone to America after the war, 'to build a home for us', he had said," Emma wipes at her eyes, the tears that had begun to form, evaporating, "I never should have got my hopes up." Her furry dissolves into something Jacob couldn't quite place. It wasn't sadness, not entirely, but it seemed almost flirty in a way. 

_ And that set Jacob off. _

Not that he refused having a beautiful girl flaunt herself, falling to her knees and leaning her head on his shoulder, long red hair flowing over his back. 

_ No. _

Jacob shakes his head. Faking an awkward cough, he gets to his feet. 

“I’m so sorry Emma, I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. “It’s an old story. Don’t much drag it out anymore.”

“But, you blame him for being stuck here?” 

She tossed him a sharp look, that lingering spark of anger in her eyes returning. “I ain’t stuck.” Then she sighs, long and tired. “I don’t blame him. He got on, I guess. I just,” she paused, her brow furrowing, fingers twitching, “just miss him is all.” 

_ The heat radiating off her never left. _

“Even now?”

“Every day.” 

The silence that enclosed them was almost suffocating, but it gave Jacob a moment to think. 

It hadn’t quite settled into Jacob yet, what exactly Emma’s reasonings had been until now. At first, by some gift of God above, a girl was genuinely interested in him. Yet? It was one thing to glance at what was happening between them and call it a blooming romance, it was another to step back and actually look. 

_ It wasn’t Jacob she liked. Not really. _

Emma is heart broken, has been for a  _ long _ time now. The result of Abe’s selfishness. And watching Emma trip over herself, although it was more like Jacob tripping from her dragging, because she had a  _ second chance. _

That thought touched something disturbing in Jacob. Not that he wouldn’t be okay with being with this lovely looking girl.

_ If. If she wasn’t doing it because of Abe. _

He broke her pinning heart. And Jacob was a stand-in for his  _ grandfather. _

So, when Emma was suddenly next to Jacob again, a hand on his arm, leaning into him in a clear attempt for either attention, or a kiss. Jacob flinched instantly, pulling away and nervously spouting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Is there something going on with you and Enoch?”

Her frozen stare was enough of an answer. “What? No! What kind of impression is that?” 

“Well, from the way he talked about you, it’s bitter, like something happened?” Jacob scratched the back of his head, sheepishly thinking back to how Enoch almost hissed out her name when he had spoke. “It’s hard to tell if he wants me around or not.”

“Jacob what the hell are you asking?”

“I-I, um,” he struggled out his next question, unsure of himself and what exactly he was asking, “does he like you?”

Her eyes shot open wide and she coughed, choking on her next words. “Excuse me!? There is absolutely nothing going on between me and him, that I can assure you on. He’s nothing more than a jealous fool and a liar.”

_ Actually he seems to be the only one who’s not. _

“Is he?”

“Is he which?”

“A liar, Emma.” She narrowed her eyes, glaring at Jacob now. “Somehow he seems to be the only one who hasn’t lied to me so far.” She opened her mouth to retort, but Jacob was faster. “The Raids, Emma.”

_ This shut her up instantly. _

Emma’s gaze turned cold, her face flushed an ugly red, as if she had just been caught doing something extremely horrible. 

“Damn him.” She breathed

“You’re not telling me things. And I want to know what they are.”

“Jacob, I can’t.”

“No! I don’t care what Peregrine has said. I don’t care if it’s forbidden. All I’ve been hearing is that you can’t tell me! I can’t talk about the future and you can’t talk about the past, what a load of bullshit. My grandfather’s last wish was for me to come here and find the truth. Damnit, does that mean nothing to you?” 

Jacob panted as he finished, the pent up rage finally let loose, and he could now relax. Looking back up at her face, he didn't expect to see regret. But, there it was, clear as day. Her eyes downcast, hands pulling at the hems of her sleeves, feet shuffling from side to side. And once she got over herself, she looked up.

“You’re right. There is something.”

“Then tell me.”

“Not here,” she mumbled, “tonight.” 

“Fine.”

They then spent the rest of the next hour arranging to meet. Jacob would sneak out and Emma would catch up with him when the adults would be sleeping. So, Jacob spent the rest of the day exploring the grounds of the house, trying to memorize it’s halls and layout, his lingering anger pushing him away from interacting with anyone else until he cooled off. By the time that happened, he was leaving the loop, as the sun had begun to set. 


End file.
